Thursday, January 13

That bitter blue funk 

One would never have imagined savoring a temperate 60+ on a routinely bleak January day in Chicago. All the snow had begun to thaw, the skin felt revitalized. Yes, implausible as it may sound, the mercury decided, of a real sudden, to upsurge yesterday, and the entire city was abuzz with a curious summery spirit. The city’s full fleet of snowplowing trucks was well rested. Heaters were turned off, windows were thrown open, long coats and fleeces were relinquished, children were tricked into believing it wasn’t winter after all - the only thing amiss was the sun.

It’s all back to the good old icy pavilion today. Rain, sleet and snow have filled all the city’s pockets, and the salting down of all slick streets and sidewalks has resumed. Snow ban parking regulations are back into effect, woolies are out of the closets, and heads are back in their hoods. Kids have resumed their snowball fights, and fireplaces are ablaze again.

Yet spirits seem unfazed, and the city seems more alive than ever. Perhaps because there’s a certain security in the wind chills of the windy city. Winter, evidently, is fortifying all the same, and winter blues, but a delusion. All it takes to beat the cold emptiness is a little convivial warmth. Or a piping hot tomato-basil-bisque, if you will.

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